Andrew knew it would end up coming out one day. Just not so close to his concerts and festivals.

You were young. Ten whole years younger than him, to be exact. You being twenty-five and him being thirty-five. But in both of your humble opinions, age wasn’t really a matter of anything as long as you both loved each other. And you did. Upon meeting for the first time at some event, you both hit it off.

No matter how much Andrew tried to push himself away from you strictly because you were ten years younger than him, he always found his way back to you. Talking to you, texting you, anything, really. You were flattered and glad that he liked you.

And now, you’ve been dating for a little over a year and rumors have been flying. Seeing the both of you in public together, wandering the Dublin streets hand-in-hand.

And now, here he was, sat in bed, staring worriedly at his phone as he gets messages from his manager about the current scandal going on that apparently making celebrity gossip headlines. Sure, the relationship wasn’t the most… ethical, age wise… it was fully up to interpretation with his fanbase at this point, honestly.

“You think I’m gonna get a brick thrown through the window because I’m dating a twenty-five year old?”

He asks, more of a rhetorical question to himself. He knew it wouldn’t happen, but he figured humor would be the best aid for a situation like this.